Goody Goody
by BranMcmuffin
Summary: Chester Bostik is missing. A once reliable counter-espionage informant, Chet turned to gambling and alcohol shortly before he dropped completely off the grid. Now Bryan Fury has been sent on the trail to find out what happened.
1. Northwestern

St. Louis Missouri… Not exactly number one on my list of must-see destinations.

Muggy… crime rate's through the roof… cool arch though.

But yet - here I was, and not by choice. I needed to make contact with one of our informants from the mid-west who had gone to ground. And for whatever reason, he decided to do it here. It had been several weeks since we had a check in from this guy and the situation was now a serious concern for my employers.

Naturally, there was next to no intel other than our boy's name and a run of the mill profile. I accessed my internal files and brought him up again only to find the same old shit: Chester "Chet" Bostik. Six foot one, brown/back hair – a little thin on the top, blue eyes… oh, and he's prone to going off the rails on serious drinking and gambling binges. Always made me smile…

 _At least he has some redeeming qualities…_

In fact – it was those very weaknesses that got him into big trouble with some very bad people. And that's when Uncle Sam rides in to the rescue… for a price. Bostik became our bitch and one of our best damn informants in the mid-west. But now, all that sweet-juicy info had dried up and we didn't know what happened to our guy. Hell - for all we knew, anything was possible. Could have been intercepted by the competition, shot in a back alley and dumped in the river over a bullshit card game gone bad, or maybe he just stumbled into the street, drunk outta his mind and got his dumb ass run over by a city bus.

 _Oh Chet… you stupid bastard… where oh where can you be?_

St. Louis was kind of bigger than I had imagined… I was now three days in, staying at a funky little dive called the Northwestern Inn.

Not exactly as stylish and fancy as your typical Motel 6, but it happened to be the last place we'd received a transmission from "Chet" before his tracking chip went dead… or his liver exploded… or whatever.

I absently flicked a little mint off of my pillow and watched it smack the far wall then plunk into the rust pitted garbage can below.

 _Two points… hmp… that went well._

I reached over and pulled an old blue grey sweatshirt on over my head as a soft, little "ding" sounded somewhere between my ears.

 _Shit - that'll be Bob calling._

I really didn't have the time or patience for his condescending tone, or the witty back and forth bullshit he likes to get into. I closed my eyes briefly and slapped on my shoulder holster while I answered.

"Bob - lissen' to me. I'll call you when there's news. Okay? I've got nothin' concrete yet… it's only day three - this shit takes time."

There was a long silence. Enough for me to finish pulling my jeans down over my faded brown work boots before he answered. He sounded a little agitated.

"Get it straight Fury. It's y _ou_ who listens to _me_. If you don't have anything solid, then a status report will have to do. But I need you to give me something… _anything_ to take to the brass upstairs."

I threw on a battered black leather jacket - mostly to conceal the Beretta M9 I had just slung under my arm - and stomped out the door and across the uneven parking lot. It was practically empty, only a few cars left. Most customers here only paid by the hour. The Northwestern didn't exactly attract the cream of St. Louis' society. I saw the hotel manager standing in the doorway under the stained, red awning. She was watching me with those shrewd little eyes of hers. I could tell she was the kind of person that didn't miss to goddamn much. I shot her a quick wink and waved.

"Hey Anu!"

She beamed at me with a huge, gleaming smile, and waved back vigorously.

"Mr. Furious! You have glorious day today!"

She perked up as if she just remembered something really important, then added.

"Hey - you find fancy mint I leave for you on pillow?!"

I gave her a thumbs up and a friendly nod - as I kept walking towards the street.

 _Yep – that's me – gettin' all the perks… well I did pay for three months - in advance - hell, I'm probably the best customer she's ever had. I earned that mint._

I was just starting to play back my conversation with Anu from when I had checked in. I jumped to the part where she was telling me how she had been working hard to change the reputation of the Northwestern - make it nicer - when the nasal, authoritative voice of Major Robert Burns burst into my brain again.

"BRYAN! Did you fall asleep on me?! I am already late for my meeting and I NEED something from you to take upst-"

"Yeah - Bob… I heard you the first time. Look - just tell 'em I got a red-hot lead and should have everything wrapped up here real soon."

"How soon?"

"Um… super soon?"

"HOW soon!?"

"Shit Bob - a couple weeks… tops. How's that? Oh, and since I now have this real tight deadline - thank you very much - I gotta get back to work."

"Yeah - but exactly how red hot is that lea-"

I abruptly disconnected the call as stepped onto the cracked sidewalk. The road it bordered was in equally shitty condition. Full of potholes - trash all over the place. I checked the street sign – it was called _Natural Bridge Avenue_. An interesting name for a street with no discernible natural bridge.

It was a drab day, overcast… sullen. I immediately felt better - then I realized…

Huh… _I'm hungry._

I followed _Natural Bridge Avenue_ northwest… looking for a "natural bridge" I knew I would never find and wondering how the hell I was going to make good on my new deadline when I got distracted. What hit me first was the smell.

 _Chicken? Waffles? Ohmygod…_

I looked up and saw the red and white sign looming over a humble looking little diner. It read: "Goody Goody."

It was a beat up old, neon relic from the 40′s… even before _my_ time.

I immediately swung open the door and went inside. It was too late for breakfast and too early for lunch so the place was pretty much empty. Just a fat, super friendly looking black dude behind the counter wearing a paper hat with "Goody Goody" written on it in black type. He immediately greeted me with a huge smile and a rhyme…

"You look like a chicken and waffle man - lemme get busy with my fryin' pan!"

 _How the fuck did he know I wanted - ah, maybe everyone comes here for that._

There was a waitress there too - she was real young and pretty - probably not much older than nineteen, maybe the fat guy's daughter or niece…. Friendly, but she looked real tired.

 _Must be close to the end of her shift._

I grabbed a table in the corner window where I'd have a good view of the street and pulled the plastic menu from the little metal stand and rubbed the grease off of it with my sleeve.

The waitress shuffled up to me and raised her eyebrows. I looked up, smiled and tried to appear friendly.

"Guess what I'm havin'?"


	2. Chicken And Waffles

Her name was "Ella." Said so on her name tag. She didn't answer me right away - but reached down and flipped over my coffee cup and started filling it up. Kid musta been psychic or somethin' because I didn't ask for it, but sure as hell needed it.

"You want any cream or sugar with that honey?"

 _"_ _Honey!?" I'm probably three times this kid's age._

I put my hand over my cup as I answered.

"Naw, black's good - don't ruin it."

She smiled and I watched as she dropped the little plastic cream containers and sugar packets back into her apron pockets. Then she pointed to the menu in front me.

"Chicken and waffles, right?"

"Yeah – and make it the half a chicken and Belgian waffle thing."

She didn't write it down and before she could turn to leave the table, I added a few things.

"Hang on there a sec' Ella, I'm gonna want to 'stupid-size" that with – uh…"

I glanced back down at the menu and jabbed at it with my finger.

"…two eggs over easy, grits and… oh what the f… sorry… _hell -_ throw some cheese on there too."

When she walked over to the counter to place my order with the big happy man working the grill, I cranked up my audio to the max. She spoke quietly, but I could easily hear every word.

"Pops – the guy in the corner… there's something - he's weird. I… his eyes… I think he's a robot or something."

 _Holy shit – that is one perceptive kid "Pops" has working the tables here!_

The guy behind the counter just kept smiling and didn't even look over at me as he spoke quietly to Ella. By the tone of his voice, I could tell he really cared about her – Pops was a good guy.

"Robot? Well then, I suppose this ticket should have a cup of 30 weight and side of anti-freeze on it? Lemme see here… hmmm why – bless my soul – it looks like _this_ is one of themrobot that likes chicken and waffles!"

He patted her affectionately on the shoulder and gestured to the otherwise empty diner.

"Ella girl, you been watching too damn many of those _Transformer_ movies. AND you've been working a little too hard too. Why don't you go on home early today? Almost no one comes in on a Sunday afternoon anyway."

"Yeah, but what about…"

I saw her gesture over to me then stop. I pretended not to look as I drank my coffee.

"I got it covered – Once I grease that "robot's" gears with what I'm cookin' up, he'll be one of our regulars. Now go on and get outta here before I change my mind."

I watched Ella out of the corner of my eye as she put her apron on the hook next to the counter and grab a coffee pot. She walked right up to me and it was really hard to detect any nervousness in her. Only the slight contraction of the muscles around her eyes as she smiled, gave it away.

 _Brave kid._

"Can I top you off Mister?"

I slid my cup over to the edge of the table.

"Sure."

I watched her pour. It was pretty damn steady. Barely a flutter. Once it was full, she gave me a sweet smile.

"My shift's over – so, uh, Pops is gonna be taking care of you. Is there anything else I can get you before I go?"

"No, I'm good – two cups of oil is all I can manage."

I nearly burst out laughing as I watched her go stiff with fright. Then I reassured her.

"Relax kid – I'm just foolin' with you. I heard you talking to your boss over there. It's just the contact lenses I'm wearing. They're the fancy kind that change your eye color – sometimes they catch the light weird."

She laughed softly and I could tell she was really embarrassed – but the relief I felt coming off of her as she apologized was like a tidal wave.

"I am SO sorry Mister… I had no idea you could hear…"

"No worries kid – if the chicken and waffles are half as good as this coffee – all is forgiven."


End file.
